Collector of Pain
by AngelDormais
Summary: It doesn't matter that I did it, or what people think of me. It matters why I did it and who I did it to, but that might be the only reason. Because, if I rid the world of pain, would it be a better world? For AppleCoreCandyBox


**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own Naruto.**

**I really need to get up off of my lazy butt and update my stories. I haven't abandoned them, don't worry. Don't bring out the torches and pitchforks yet :)**

**Quizzy time! One sentence in this story is NOT mine! It is from the person who requested this story! A quote, if you would! See if you can find it! **

**And don't you tell the others...**

**---**

It's frightening.

It really is.

Is that why I do it?

Not that it matters.

It doesn't matter how wrong, or sadistic, or evil it is, because I do it, and I have no regrets. The world views it as a sin, but I view it differently. I know when I put my head on that pillow to sleep, I know that somebody's spirit is floating above me, watching my every move. I don't really care that much. The company is always welcome. Of course, it would be better if they were still alive. But if you were to really think about it, they wouldn't think of me any different than anybody else in the world. It's a one-way trip, and once it's done, that's it.

Don't hold me accountable if you ever happen to enforce that as your moral law. I can't speak to you from experience. I'm not dead.

Dead...a word with more meaning than most people will ever go through life knowing. To most people it translates fear. But no. To me, it sounds...free.

I wouldn't mind being free myself. Just to wash my hands of this terrible world, to know what it was like on the other side. Some say that the grass is always greener on the other side. Other say that its brown, brown and wilted.

I'd take my chances.

Alas, I could never lie in that green or wilted grass. No, my job is here.

By now, one might be wondering...what is this job I keep mentioning?

It may not seem right to you...in fact, it's incredibly likely that you'll think of me just like every other person did, think of me as a sadistic, murderous wacko.

I guess there's no use in stalling the inevitable.

You want me to spit it out? Fine. I kill people.

See, you just thought I was crazy, no?

Don't get me wrong. Everyone deserves a chance at life.

But define 'life'.

Is there a 'life' beyond breathing on this earth? It can be hard to tell. But death can be better than loneliness.

Okay, let's get to the point.

In my free time, I want to rid people of the pain that I feel. So I go and find people...

Alone people...

With no life left.

It's not hard to set people free.

All you must do is pretend to know them. Pretend to be their friend, pretend that you know what's wrong with them. Pretend that a drink at the bar will solve their problems, underaged or not.

Of course, nobody would want to be pretend friends with the fox brat.

Which is why I have to pretend.

You wouldn't believe the things I've had to do to achieve a world with little loneliness, how low I've sunk!

On more than one occasion, I've had to turn into Sasuke-teme, Sakura-chan, Rock Lee...so many people!

Because, like I said...

Nobody want to be friends with the Kyuubi brat.

So what have we established so far...

One: Find someone experiencing loneliness...

Two: Turn into someone who isn't the Kyuubi brat...

And three...get them drunk.

It doesn't matter how I do it. Maybe I have to beat them to a pulp, then shove the alchohol down their throat, sometimes I have to...'persuade' them... my god, I will never forget the times I had to help them along in that manner...Sometimes, most of their depression does the work for me. They'll down one drink after another, until they're drooling all over the counter, puking their guts out, falling out of their chair...

Step one, complete.

Then it's just a matter of paying the bartender with money from their unconscious pockets, and the task of dragging them home...

What then?

Now, I'll have to remind you...what I do is not for the sake of pleasure, but for the freeing of souls...I truly believe what I do helps. If you don't like it, you can turn around and leave...but that won't make it go away.

It's a simple matter of a kunai, and the knowledge of where the heart is. If you know that, then you're good to go...

I'm not a surgeon, and I'll be the first to tell you that. I don't enjoy the sight of blood, I don't like killing people...and on more than one occasion, I've vomited from this procedure. The heart is where all pain starts, as it pumps the pain throughout the body...and if one were to free another, what better way to start than at the source of all pain?

So anyways...once the pain is removed, what of the rest of it?

As I gather the leftovers into their helpings, I make a trip to the Forest of Death...because all of the painful blood must rest in such a place, and nowhere else.

It's a matter of throwing the items over the fence, and waiting...the predators will finish the job by nightfall.

But I always turn and run.

Because even if the grass is greener on the other side, I just can't watch the green grass turn red.

It's funny.

I find tears running down my face, every time. I didn't even know this person, and yet every time I do this, I feel...

I feel the pain.

All of the pain that was in their hearts finds its way into mine, and as the moment seeps into my memories, the pain in my heart swells to an even more uncontrollable level.

So why do I do it?

I thought I knew, when I started telling you my story...I thought I had my life planned out, I knew what I was going to do for my days...

But as I say it out loud, the pain gathered in my heart threatens to destroy my being. Maybe those released souls beckon me...

I'm not a murderer who wants to see peope die.

I don't like blood.

Or killing.

Or pain.

But I think I might be sadistic...

Why else would I do this?

My heart...this pain...nobody should ever have to feel this pain.

Nobody will ever feel this pain.

Maybe if I leave...

All the pain in the world will leave with me.

I can ask those people...

'Did I help...?'

I'm sorry, for whoever has to clean up after me...

But it has to be done.

I mean, I know it's wrong and I know it's cruel to think like this, but truly...who's ever going to remember them, even for a second, if I don't do what I do to them?

Who's ever going to remember me?

Soon, it won't matter...

But then again, I'm not sure...if it ever did.

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**Yeah, I, personally, thought the ending was a little weak...a cliffhanger. I skipped around too much. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed.**


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